Mischief Managed
by Caladaac
Summary: "Sulking here won't make it any better."  "I know."  "So why are we still in the hallway?"


**A/N Okay, this is my first fanfic! Don't be upset by all the grammatical and spelling errors! I am so bad at it it is not even funny. Leave a review and tell me what you think! I want to know how to improve this fic...**

**Disclaimer means "The act of disclaiming". Disclaiming means "to deny rights of". Lets use it in a sentence!**

**"Caladaac i****s DISCLAIMING everything associated with Harry Potter that happens to be in her fic."**

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><p>George stared at the ground, tears reaching his eyes. He hadn't cried once over the dilemma, and wasn't going to start now. He blinked vigorously, hoping the wetness would escape, but the blinking made it worse.<p>

Every family member had put their hand on his shoulder, telling him they knew how he felt. They didn't. Fred may have been their family as well, but they didn't get the same pang George felt as he realized his partner would never return.

The funeral was starting, and everyone was paying his or her respects to Fred, leaving George to stand in the hallway, still staring at the floor. The tears had finally spewed over, and he slid down the wall he had been leaning on. He put his head in his hands and sobbed like nobody had ever seen.

George wasn't the type to cry. He had found humor in almost everything, joking about them afterwards. This was a different story. He had lost his partner, flesh and blood, twin. It was his entire fault, as well.

Fred and George were together for part of the fight, before the latter had spoken to his twin. _"Fred! Go get Ginny! Neville says she's left, damn idiot!"_Fred had followed his brother's commands without objection.

"But look where that got 'em. He's laying in a damn coffin as everyone tells him things he can't hear." George said this part aloud before a fresh set of tears came over him. He was silent, except for the sounds of him gasping for breath.

He started a few minutes later as someone held him close, whispering comforting thoughts. It was a girl, he gathered from the smell and tone of voice. His tears slowly stopped and he sat there just breathing as the woman was gently rubbing his back.

Once he had calmed down, the women stood up. George opened his eyes to see Angelina Johnson staring right back at him with her big brown eyes. "Oy, there's no use sitting around crying! Lets go start that service."

"It already started," George mumbled, taking Angelina's hand to pull himself up. Angelina smiled slightly as he slouched, a frown plastered to his face. She brought her hand up to his face and wiped away a stray tear.

"It hasn't. We were waiting for an arse named George."

"Ha ha," he said nonchalantly. "Bitch. Can you just leave?"

Angelina winced at his comment, but ignored it otherwise.. "Sulking here won't make it any better."

"I know."

"So why are we still in the hallway?"

"Because I don't wanna go into the damn service! How hard is that to understand!" Angelina smirked playfully before kissing his cheek and grabbing his hand, causing George to stare incredulously.

"Bloody hell, George! You are so strange!" she exclaimed.

"I'm strange?" George looked at her with dis belief. She laughed, promptly dragging him into the auditorium. She stopped, flinging George forward. He turned around, pleading for mercy. She smiled sweetly, and George heaved a sigh of relief, before getting shoved by Angelina. "GO!"

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><p>George straightened his tie before walking down the isle of the church. It took only seconds, but to him it felt like hours. Finally, he had reached the podium, which had a magnifying charm. Everyone could see George's still swollen face. For the first time ever, George Weasley felt self-conscious.<p>

He saw Harry egging him on, pointing to Georges pocket. Confused, he reached in, feeling a small piece of paper. He pulled it out, and saw a yellowish parchment in his hand. He smiled and pulled his wand out. Harry grinned as George figured out what it was.

George took a deep breath. He closed his eyes, and held the parchment up. He smiled, knowing the entire auditorium was confused, except for his parents, brothers, sister, Harry and Hermione.

He opened his eyes and pointed his wand at the parchment. "I solemnly swear... that I am up to no good." Before everyone realized what the paper was, he put it in his pocket and walked of stage.

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><p>The end of the funeral was nearing, and George was feeling a little better. Not much, but at least a little. Nearly everyone had gone up to say something, even Malfoy, who said Fred was "amusing... in away".<p>

The last person spoke of Fred, and it was the end. George walked back up on stage and took the parchment and his wand in hand. This time, he had a watery smile as he spoke, his voice shaking a little. "Mischief managed."


End file.
